


Helping Hands

by DittyWrites



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Companionable Snark, Cutesy, Domestic Fluff, Domestic af, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Massage, Short & Sweet, Snark, in which Harv and Bruce love each other very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-12-10 09:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11689191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/pseuds/DittyWrites
Summary: After gaining an injury to his face, Harvey is forced to allow Bruce to tend to his wounds and they share a tender moment. (Also contains all my Bruce/Harvey drabbles)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the shite title, i am shite with titles.

“If you would stop squirming so much, this would be over much sooner and with considerably less discomfort.”

As he attempted to close the last small stitch which he was applying, Bruce gave a satisfied grunt as he finally sealed the deep cut which was gracing the high curve of Harveys' cheek.

“Easy for you to say,” Harvey grumbled as his wound was tended to, “you were not slammed across the face with a bike chain.”

“You've shot me six times over the last ten years.” Bruce pointed out.

“And it will be seven if you keep this up.” Harvey countered unapologetically but there was a hint of humour in his words.

Looking down at the head which lay tilted against his lap for support, Bruce rolled his eyes. Harvey had placed his head there to ensure that he did not flinch away too much when receiving medical attention and it also gave Bruce the best access to the cut itself.

It had not taken a lot of convincing for Harvey to make himself comfortable though as his cheek rested against the solid muscle which passed for Bruces' thighs.

“Shut up, Harv.”

Moving his hand away from the wound, Bruce instead ghosted his fingers along the bruising which surrounded it as he circled the affected area with a soothing touch.

Cracking open his good eye, Harvey gave him a searching gaze.

“What are you doing?”

“Relaxing you,” Bruce answered honestly, “the tension in your face will make the wounds take longer to heal.”

Grunting noncommittally, Harvey closed his eye again as Bruce picked up one of the antibacterial wipes which were included in his kit and cleaned his hands thoroughly with it. It would not be any good for Harvey to pick up an infection from his dirty hands.

Bruce returned his hands to the unscarred side of Harveys' face as he stroked one hand up along his jaw and gently traced the edges of his acid scarring which divided his handsome face with the other.

“Bruce...” Harvey muttered in warning.

Ignoring him, Bruce placed his two fingers at the edge of Harveys' scalp and used his fingertips to gently follow the curve of his forehead towards his ears. As his fingers separated, the contrast of the different halves of Harveys' face became apparent as Bruce focussed on the differing sensations which crossed his fingertips.

The non-scarred skin was soft to the touch with only the recently sustained injuries providing any variation from the smoothness and Bruces' fingers slid across it without meeting any resistance. He also took some care to avoid the freshly sewn cut as he massaged the skin around it.

However, as his fingers reached the scarred skin, he felt Harvey tense beneath him and Bruce paused to release a calming breath. If Harvey rejected the movements then he would accept it but as he continued to gently massage his fingers across the torn flesh, he was not forced away. The various pits and ridges of the scarring was an interesting sensation and, although many of the nerve endings were damaged beyond repair, Bruce was careful to avoid pushing down too hard in cause it caused any excess pain.

Bringing his fingers towards the nose, Bruce started to slowly massage Harveys' face and as his fingers danced across his skin, he took great care to apply an equal amount of attention to both sides. Tracing his fingers across Harveys' jaw, he slid his hands down Harveys' throat before gently running them back up the sensitive flesh, making sure to apply enough pressure to relieve any tension which may have been building there.

Practically purring in contentment, whatever reservations Harvey possessed about Bruce touching his scarring had melted away as he took pleasure in the soft ministrations.

Bruce was not treating him like glass, his touch was soft but it was firm and unflinching as it repeatedly stoked along his ripped face, and he felt a low hum of serenity in his chest.

Bruce had never treated him as fragile, as a monster which possessed the thinnest ties to sanity, and it had afforded his touch an almost euphoric quality.

“Bruce?” He murmured, the words issuing from his mouth with no emphasis.

“Yes, Harvey?” Bruce asked wryly, his happiness that Harvey was allowing him some uncharacteristic free access to his scarring causing him to feel almost giddy.

Opening his mouth, Harvey looked uncertain for a moment and whatever he had intended on confessing left him just as quickly as it had came and he snapped his mouth shut again.

“Nothing.”

Squirting a small amount of antiseptic moisturiser onto his fingertips, Bruce warmed it for a moment between his hands before gently applying and smoothing it across Harveys' face, paying particular attention to his fresh wounds and scarring as they both settled back into a comfortable silence.

Harvey would never say the words, Bruce understood that, and he did not need to hear them to know the depth of Harveys' affection for him.

Smiling with content, Bruce continued to run his fingers delicately along Harveys' features, each one still beautiful despite their tragedy, as he silently willed his partner to sink into a peaceful sleep.

 


	2. Oneshot: "I'm not leaving you alone. Not now, not ever."

It was Harvey who broke the silence.

“It would have been my fifteen year wedding anniversary today.”

Turning in bed so that he could face his contemplative partner, Bruce watched as his gaze never faltered from the ceiling.

“Really?”

He already knew, of course, but it would have been tactless to bring such a thing up.

Acting as if Bruce had never spoken, Harvey continued to speak.

“Fifteen years ago today I stood before a minister and swore to love and respect my wife until death did we part.” His hands folded atop the covers, Bruce watched as Harvey started to scratch agitatedly at the back of one hand. “Seven years we lasted before I died, and then we parted.”

Sighing as he followed the train of thought, Bruce matched Harveys’ position as he turned to face the ceiling too.

“You never died,” Bruce soothed, “you were a victim of an attack which attempted to steal your life and left you in need of help.”

“Gilda was a good woman, she tried to fix m-”

“You never needed fixed, Harvey.” Bruce interrupted, tone laced with urgency. “You needed help to come to terms with what had happened. You are not  _broken_. Never were.”

Bruces’ hand slid across the blankets which covered them both as he laced his calloused fingers within Harveys’ own in an attempt to calm and comfort him.

As their hands met, Harvey jolted as though shocked and his head twisted to meet Bruces’.

“She was a good woman. This corrupt city never took that from her,” Harvey argued gently as his free hand came up to wipe away a small amount of spit which had collected in the corner of his scarred lips, “and she was always going to be better off without me.”

“That is not true.”

“You’re a good person too, Bruce.”

“No I am not,” Bruce pointed out softly as he shook his head, “but I try to be. As do you.”

Pausing, he added wryly.

“Half of the time.”

Smiling at the half-hearted joke, a sliver of concern pierced Bruces’ core as Harvey made no attempt to even react to the silly wordplay.

“You’ll leave too. Eventually.” The conviction within Harveys’ voice was difficult to contest as he came to a conclusion. “Things are good at the moment but that won’t last forever and then you’ll leave.”

Bruce sighed.

It was going to be one of those days.

Grunting lowly as he disturbed his stiff body to slide across the bed and close the small space which had existed between them, Bruce released Harveys’ hand as he locked his arm around his bare chest, intertwining their legs securely.

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

The words were murmured directly into Harveys’ ear as Bruce allowed the determination and conviction which fuelled his life to fill his voice as he fought to convince Harvey of his feelings.

“Not now, not ever.”


	3. A Headache Like No Other

Tapping the scarred flesh which covered his temple with a curved hand, Harvey mentally counted down from ten in a vain attempt to keep his temper in check as he witnessed the scene which was slowly approaching him.

“Where,” he sighed out his question, “did you find him?”

His gravelly tones swept across the almost empty warehouse and, as they reached the pair of henchmen whom had just burst through the door, his attention was held solely by the struggling figure whom they were holding tight between them.

Robin.

The latest addition to Bruces' arsenal, this one was his youngest, and only biological, child.

“Caught 'im patrolling outside up on the roof, boss!” The first henchman replied, grinning despite the obvious bruise which was blossoming on his chin. “Now we got us a nice little pet Robin to keep in a cage!”

The second man had his hand cradled close to his body and even from this distance, Harvey could smell the blood and see the small chunk which had been ripped from it.

Teeth, probably.

He did not need this problem right now.

Given his current entanglements with certain leather-clad vigilantes, he could not afford to be directly involved in a confrontation with one of his hell spawn. Plus, he was uncertain of how aware the little runt was when it came to his relationship with Bruce and having him here was an unacceptable risk until that particular knowledge had been bestowed.

Both Bruce and himself had images to keep up.

Strolling up to the trio, he towered over the tiny child as the boy glared up at him with hatred burning in his green eyes. It was difficult to tell if it was jealousy or just general fury. His hands were bound together with zip-ties and Harvey had to marvel at exactly how his idiotic henchmen had been able to capture the mini-assassin.

Holding the kids look of rage for a moment, Harvey started to flick his coin between his fingers with a practiced ease.

“You are lucky that i'm feeling reasonable tonight, kid.” He growled, flipping the coin higher with each sentence. “So heads, I let you go with the promise that if I catch you here again i'll shoot you. Tails, I knock you clean out and leave you on the roof for the Dark Knight to find while I conclude my business.”

“Why don't we just kill him boss?” The second goon suggested with a vicious smile. “We never get this kinda chance often! Give the Bat something to really think 'bout?”

“Give me him!” Harvey demanded, scarred lips pulling back to show his perfectly white teeth as he growled at his henchmen and indicated to their captive.

Picking up the kid by the scruff of his neck, he avoided the clawed hands and snapping teeth of the little menace as he tried to attack him, presumably ashamed at being manhandled like a common child. He had barely made it a few steps back from his goons when he felt a small foot connect with his shin and his temper spiked.

“Do that again, kid, and i'll knock you out right here and sell you to the highest bidder! I know a lot of people who would pay a lot of green to split that little skull of yours.”

As he hissed a tiny bit of spit flew out from between his clenched teeth on the scarred side and Harvey was again forced to gather his calm. If he so much as laid a finger on the punk it would put his relationship with Bruce on the slates again and risk the surprisingly good place they were in at the moment.

“If we kill the kid then the Bat will rain down on us so hard we won't be left with a single tooth between us.” Diverting his rage to more acceptable targets, he snarled at the stupid thug who had made the initial suggestion. “You remember what he did to the clown?”

A low shiver seemed to pass through the man as he recalled the aftermath of the Batmans' vengeance for his lost partner all those years ago.

It was the stuff of legends.

Nightmares.

As the kid in his grasp continued to struggle, Harvey could feel the pain in his temple worsen. Of all the damn brats the idiots had to capture, they would succeed to get the least tameable. Why couldn't it have been one of the more reasonable ones? Like Nightwing or the smartass one, Red Robin.

Keeping a stiff grip on the kids collar, Harvey walked swiftly to the rear exit of his hideout leaving his henchmen in his dust as he dealt with the situation personally.

Snatching his favourite switch blade from the inner pocket of his dual-toned suit, he was quick to sever the ties which held Robins' wrists together before pushing the kid out of the door and into the dark alleyway outside.

Now glaring at him with open suspicion, Robin held his ground.

“Why did you release me?” His faint accent was detectable as he demanded an answer.

“Because we're feeling charitable.” Harvey answered irritably. “Now fu- get lost!” He corrected himself. Can't have the kid telling tales.

Suspicion never leaving his expression, Robin paused for a moment to offer a final analytical look before sneering and walking away down the alley, twisting towards the nearby wall.

“Hey, runt!”

Calling after the small figure as it prepared to scale a drain and disappear into the night, he waited until he had his full attention.

“Tell your old man that we cannot make dinner tomorrow night as we have a meeting with Cobblepot and he refuses to move it.” Harvey muttered, just loud enough to be heard. “However, he's welcome to join us here afterwards if he brings a decent whiskey and, since my men are off running errands for us, he can stay the night if he wants.”

Without waiting for a response, he slammed the heavy metal door behind him as a very confused sounding “WHAT?” faintly reached him, tugging a sly grin from his lips.

So the kid really didn't know after all.

Ha.

 


End file.
